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by David_Ginsberg



Series: The Pink Flamingo Kid [1]
Category: Boy Meets World
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Explicit Language, Homophobic Language, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Suicidal Thoughts, spousal abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-05-25 19:08:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 9,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14983649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/David_Ginsberg/pseuds/David_Ginsberg
Summary: Twelve-year-old Shawn Hunter's life is a mess. The only bright spot is his oblivious but supportive best friend Cory Matthews.





	1. Career Day

Shawn Hunter was a fucking idiot. Well, maybe not an idiot exactly. He had known what coming home and yelling at his father would achieve, and he’d gone and done it anyway. So maybe a fuck-up, or a runt, which was Eddie’s preferred term for him. He had just been so angry with his father.

“ _Who the hell shows up to their kid’s career day when they don’t have a fucking job?”_ He’d thought when he saw Chet standing in the hallway. Shawn would have tried to get his father to go home, when he got close enough to smell the whiskey, he knew that it would only end up leading to an outburst.

Instead, Shawn had suffered through a vintage Chet Hunter performance. Three or four years ago, it would have had its intended effect on both Shawn and his classmates, but now the only person in the room who didn’t see through it was Cory. The other kids had snickered through it, baiting his father with questions designed to get him to lie further, and the teachers had just given Shawn those pitying looks. He would have rather they yelled at him or given him detention.

The career day event had been during home room, so Shawn had the entire rest of the day to put up with snide remarks. The anger built up in his head, and he lost his temper as soon as he got home to find Chet sprawled out in his lazy boy with a beer. The argument finally ended with Chet’s fist connecting with Shawn’s cheek – sending him sprawling onto the carpet of the trailer. Shawn decided he was better off staying there for the next few minutes and hoping his dad forgot about him. It didn’t take long for regret to set in.

_“I shouldn’t have yelled at him like that, he’s under a lot of stress….It’s really my fault, anyway. I shouldn’t have let him see the flyer they sent home. Why do I always fuck everything up?”_

He ended up lying there, counting loose fibers of carpet, until his Mom came home. Chet immediately started in about her “ungrateful bastard son,” and Shawn could tell that dinner wasn’t going to be happening. If he hurried, he could make it to Cory’s in time not to be too obvious.

Cory looked up as Shawn climbed through his bedroom window.

“Shawn, what happened to your face?”

“Aw, it was nothing. I just fell downstairs.”

“Ok…hey, do you wanna see my fountain impression?”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Oh, yeah. So, you do Turner’s English homework?”

“No, you?”

The conversation turned to all the assignments they hadn’t completed for English class until Cory brought up that day’s lesson. “Man, I never want to have another career day again.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“What do you have to complain about? Your dad’s cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yeah, he invented CNN! And the microwave oven!”

“Cor, he didn’t invent the microwave oven.”

“But he said…”

“He says a lot of things, but none of them are true. He’s just a liar.” Shawn began pacing back and forth. A stupid, deadbeat, piece of shit liar.”

“Shawn…are you ok?”

“I should go.”

Shawn hurriedly climbed out the window and made his way to the street. When he got back to the trailer park, he could hear his parents yelling inside their trailer, so he started walking back towards town. Shawn figured he’d sleep on a park bench for the night. He didn’t realize that Wayne the mailman, who had been paying him increasingly creepy compliments for the past couple of years, had also overheard the yelling, and was waiting for him at the edge of the park.


	2. The Uninvited

When he woke up the next morning, Shawn was sore in places he didn’t realize could feel sore. He considered ditching school and lying in bed all day, but he could hear Eddie arguing with his mom about something, so he figured he was safer at school. Every movement resulted in a new ache in his gut. He was too stiff to grab the note Cory passed him before their history teacher, Mr. Powell, intercepted it.

“Mr. Matthews wants to know ‘is this going to be a make-up party.”

Melissa Harrington turned around in her desk. “Why sure, Cory. You can borrow my lip gloss.”

Shawn winced, this time in sympathy for Cory, who spun around and horse-whispered so that Powell would hear him. “Out!, Make Out Party!”

Powell just glared at Cory.

Cory waited to harass Shawn until they got out of class. “Why didn’t you grab the note. Now Melissa’s never going to invite me to her party!”

“I was a little sore.”

“Sore? From what?”

“I…you know…fell downstairs.” Shawn hurriedly changed the subject. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll get invited to the next party. It’s junior high school, there’s too much going on to remember anything.”

Just then, Harley and his ‘gang’ showed up. “Don't think I forgot about you, baboon. Don't think I forgot about last Tuesday- you sat in my chair in the cafeteria.”

Shawn thought they were going to get their asses kicked, but Frankie got distracted by the chess club.

“You know,” Cory remarked, “I really do think they should put the high school and junior high school in separate buildings.”

“Don’t look now, but here comes the Pony Express.”

Melissa Harrington came down the hallway, handing out invitations as dramatically as possible. Shawn assumed her parents were going to be home, as Cory got one and he didn’t. Shawn was embarrassed, particularly when Cory made a big deal about it, but he tried to play it off.

“I guess it’s just one of those junior high school mysteries, like how Janitor Budd lost his eye.” Usually, the eye thing was good for distracting Cory, but this time he completely ignored it.

“Well, what are we going to do?”

“You’re gonna go to the party.”

“I’m not going to a party that you’re not invited to.” Cory protested.

“Oh, don’t sweat it. I’ll go grab a burger at Chubby’s.”

“No you won’t.”

“And why won’t I?”

“Because I'm cool now, which means I run with a very influential crowd. Which means all I do is pick up this telephone, pull a few strings and get you invited to the party.”

Not for the first time, Shawn wondered why his best friend had asked him for advice when he already had a plan worked out in his head. He just shook his head and walked to class while Cory tried to figure out who to call.


	3. Parentally Approved

Since the one place Shawn knew he _didn’t_ want to be on a Friday night was home, he convinced a few of his friends to hang out at Chubbie’s with him. He was just about to start in on the chili cheese fries when Pat Holman nudged him.

“Hey, Shawn. Your boyfriend’s here.”

Shawn panicked for a brief second. “My what?” He calmed down when he noticed Cory, who Pat must have been referring to, looking miserable in the doorway. “Oh, Cory. We’re not actually…”

“I mean, I don’t care. As long as you’re not looking at me.”

“Trust me, I’m not.”

Cory was talking to Mr. Turner, whom Shawn had been pretending not to notice. The conversation must have involved him, because Turner turned towards him. “Hey! Hey! Everybody! Hand in your homework, right now. Shawn, your friend's here. Just kiddin' about the homework. Good night, everybody.”

Turner split and Shawn jumped over the booth to console Cory. Cory, however, didn’t appear interested in being consoled, and eventually admitted that Melissa had only been allowed to invite ‘parentally approved’ boys to her party, which meant that only the geekiest guys in school, plus Cory, had actually showed up.

Shawn convinced Cory to bail, and they wandered around aimlessly for a couple of hours until Cory had to be back at Melissa’s house for his mom to pick him up. Mrs. Matthews’ face brightened when she saw Shawn. “Shawn, you made it to the party after all! Do you need a ride home?”

“No, thanks. Mrs. Matthews, I can walk from here.”

“Hey, can he stay over?” Cory asked.

“I don’t think this would be a good night, sweetie, your father’s back’s still hurting him.” Mrs. Matthews turned back to Shawn, “but you really should let us give you a ride, Shawn. It’s getting late out.”

Shawn had actually been planning to spend the night in the park, but he could tell Mrs. Matthews wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Thanks, Mrs. Matthews.”

They got into the car and Mrs. Matthews drove him over to the trailer park. There was no sign of Eddie, and it seemed like both of his parents were asleep. Shawn carefully opened the door to the trailer so as not to make any noise, and toed his shoes off before tip-toeing inside. He noticed his mother sprawled out on the couch. She was either asleep or passed out, so Shawn took a blanket out of the closet and carefully spread it over her before going into his room and locking the door for the night.


	4. Downtown Man

~~~~

Shawn was waiting for Cory outside of school when a strange man came up to him.

“Are you that Hunter kid?”

“Uh…yeah?”

Without warning, the man pinned Shawn against the wall of the school. “You keep your grubby little hands off of my daughter, you hear me!”

“Who…who’s your daughter?”

“Becky Scholz. She’s a nice girl and I won’t have her reputation ruined by _trailer trash_ like you.”

Shawn blushed profusely. Becky Scholz had been his date to the turnaround dance.

Before Mr. Scholz could go any further, Mr. Turner stepped between him and Shawn. “Excuse me, but we prefer people not assault students on the school property. You see it has a tendency to interfere with the educational process.”

“What interferes with the educational process is a girl not being able to go to school without being harassed by every juvenile delinquent within a five-mile radius.”

“Juvenile delinquent? Oh, you mean Shawn. Shawn, have you been harassing this guy’s daughter?”

“Turnaround dance,” Shawn explained.

“Isn’t that the one where the girls ask the guys out?”

“Yeah.”

“So…this guy’s daughter asked you out?”

“Yeah.”

“And now he’s coming around threatening to beat you up?”

“…Yeah.”

Turner looked back at Mr. Scholz “Ok, I’ll tell you what. You talk to your little uptown girl about not dating boys you don’t approve of and I’ll handle the lessons in English literature.”

Mr. Scholz stalked off and Shawn readjusted his jacket. “Thanks, Mr. Turner.”

“No problem.”

Shawn looked around. “Everyone saw that, didn’t they.”

“You’ll be fine,” Turner assured him, “the girl’s probably in more trouble in you are. But before I do file a complaint about this guy, you didn’t misbehave at all with his daughter, did you?”

“Uhhh….let’s just say she started it.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You guys, uh, used protection, right?”

“I mean, it didn’t get _that_ far.” Shawn admitted.

“Alright, I’m just going to hold off on that complaint.”


	5. Candy

Wayne visited the trailer park ever day at 4:30, about an hour before Shawn’s mom usually got home from work. Shawn figured that if he could find a reason to delay going home until then, Wayne wouldn’t be able to get at him. To kill time, he walked home with Cory, listening to Cory describe his two-hour phone conversation with Theresa Keiner the previous night.

They got to Cory’s house to find Mr. and Mrs. Matthews standing next to a giant candy clown and a wreath inscribed “To Cory, Love T.K.”

“Cory, who is T.K.?” Mrs. Matthews asked.

“She’s this girl I like. I guess she’s, uh, coming on a little strong.”

Shawn was philosophical about the whole thing “Hey, free candy.”

Cory looked nervous “I don’t know if I’m ready for Theresa’s ‘candy’ yet.”

“I’ll take it. I haven’t eaten anything since lunch yesterday.” Shawn grabbed the candy apple off the clown’s nose.

“Well I certainly don’t think either of you are anywhere _near_ ready for this girl’s ‘candy,’” Mrs. Matthews objected, “and Shawn, why didn’t you eat lunch today?”

“I forgot my tickets at home,” Shawn realized with a sinking feeling that Eddie’d probably found his free lunch tickets and cashed them in again.

“Well take some of this sirloin home with you,” Mr. Matthews handed Shawn a steak.

Shawn blushed furiously, “Oh, you guys don’t have to do that.”

“No, it’s from this T.K. girl. Tony’s out back grilling another two pounds of them.”

“Who’s Tony?”

“The delivery man. We’ve gotten to be very close friends over the past couple of days.”

Cory turned to Shawn. “Look, Shawn, you’ve gotta help me break up with this girl.”

“Cory, I don’t think I’m exactly the best person to help you dump Harley Keiner’s sister.”

“Wait, she’s _Harley Keiner’s_ sister?”

“Yeah, T.K. – Theresa Keiner. You didn’t know that?”

“Who is this Harley person?” Mrs. Matthews asked.

“Just a kid at school.” Cory and Shawn answered in unison.

“Uh-huh.” Amy sounded skeptical. “Cory, I want to meet this girl before you guys go on a date, ok?”


	6. Sister Theresa

The evening of the date arrived. Cory had been ‘persuaded’ not to break it off by Harley, with assistance from Frankie, who met Cory at the door.

“Miss Keiner's waiting in the car to go to the movies.”

“Shawn, she's gonna see through this outfit.” Cory had worn a bow-tie and black suit with white socks in an effort to make himself so unattractive that Theresa would dump him. “I'm goin' out in a bow tie. I'm coming back in a box. Help me.”

“Miss Keiner doesn't like to miss the coming attractions…fuzzy.”

Frankie pulled Cory away from Shawn and Eric and half-ushered, half-dragged him to the car, where Theresa was waiting in the back seat. It turned out that Frankie and Theresa had very different ideas about the appropriate level of physical contact for the date. To be honest, Cory was siding with Frankie, but Theresa managed to get rid of him before the movie even started by giving him two bucks for sno-caps, leaving him and Theresa alone in the car. It briefly occurred to Cory that this was an oddly wholesome location for an evening that seemed increasingly likely to end in his death.

Just as Theresa was going in for the kiss, Cory saw Shawn’s face in the window of the car, like a guardian angel. Shawn pointed to the back of the car, and Cory attempted to extricate himself by offering to buy drinks. Theresa wasn’t having any of it.

“You just sit there lookin' good. But lose this.” She ripped off the bow-tie; Cory knew he shouldn’t have gone with a clip-on. Theresa went out to get the drinks herself, and Shawn opened the car door and jumped in the back seat.

“Shawn, she's all over me. How do I get her to stop?”

“I've never exactly had that problem before. How do you normally strike out?”

“I don't know. I mean, it's usually so easy for me! “

“Look, hop on my bike. I'll get you out of here.”

“Ditch Harley Keiner's sister on a date? Are you mental?”

 “Too late.” Shawn jumped out and positioned himself under the car.

 “Man, that drink line is fast.” Shawn muttered under his breath. He’d left the door open, allowing him to overhear Cory and Theresa’s conversation, which rather quickly turned to Theresa’s abandonment issues.

_Join the club,_ Shawn thought to himself, _we’ve got jackets. Shit,_ he realized, _this is the kind of girl **I** should be trying to go out with._

He overheard footsteps and looked over to see Harley and Frankie making a bee-line for the car. Trying to warn Cory, Shawn banged his fist on the bottom of the car, but Cory either didn’t hear or couldn’t extricate himself in time.

Shawn heard Cory’s scream and then Harley’s voice yell out “What are you doing with my sister?”

There was a scuffle of some sort, giving Shawn time to pull Cory out of the sunroof and make their escape on Shawn’s bike. Shawn knew a path through the woods from the drive-in to the trailer park that Harley’s car couldn’t fit down.

“Alright, you can’t come inside,” Shawn admonished Cory, “so you’re going to have to find your own way home.”

“Why can’t I come inside?”

“We’re getting the carpets waxed.”

Chet was waiting for Shawn when he got in. Shawn realized with a sinking feeling in his stomach that he had missed curfew.

“Where the fuck have you been?” His father slapped his belt rhythmically against his hand as he advanced towards Shawn.

“I…uh…I had to help Cory.” Shawn turned and tried to open the door, but he wasn’t fast enough.


	7. Loyalty

Harley was waiting for Shawn again outside of math class. “So, Hunter, that was some pretty impressive cycling last night.”

Shawn knew that Cory yelling his name as they had run off would get him into trouble. “Look, I don’t want any trouble with you guys. I was just trying to help out my friend.”

“See that’s what I admire about you, Hunter,” Harley put his hand on Shawn’s shoulder, and shook it slightly for emphasis. “You’re loyal.”

Shawn wasn’t really sure where Harley was going with this. “Uh-huh….”

“See I’m loyal too, and it’s a quality I highly prize in my associates.” Harley gestured to Frankie and Joey, “You know, I’m always on the lookout for new associates.”

“You want me to be…one of your associates?” Shawn asked incredulously.

“And he’s quick on the uptake!” Harley stepped back and clapped Shawn on the shoulder.

“Umm…” Shawn didn’t exactly _want_ to be part of Harley Kleiner’s gang, but he suspected that it might come in handy with his Wayne problem. Besides, it wasn’t exactly as if Shawn had ever expected to grow up to be a model citizen, and Harley, Frankie, and Eddie were probably more ‘socially appropriate’ for him to hang out with than Cory’s friends. “…Can I have a few days to think about it?”

“Sure you can.” Harley clapped Shawn on the shoulder again and then left him standing alone in the hallway.


	8. Shawn's Autobiography

Cory couldn’t understand why Shawn was suddenly hanging out with Harley Kleiner and his gang. He thought partnering with Shawn for Turner’s biography project would help, but Shawn seemed oddly resistant to telling him anything.

To help Shawn with his project, Cory got out a book of old photographs.

Shawn took it and studied it for a second. “Ah, look, you’re playing in your sandbox at the old house.”

“Yeah, I spent most of my time playing in the sandbox – where’d you play when you were little.”

“In the burnt out old Chevy out back by the septic tanks…don’t use that in your report.”

“Aw, come on! You’re giving me nothing to work with.”

“Hey, I lived, I died. No big deal.”

“Are you staying for dinner?” Cory asked hopefully.

“Why don’t you come over to my place? My dad’s broiling fish.”

“On the hood of his pickup?”

“I thought you liked it last time.”

“I did, it was just a little…oily, and…anti-freezy.”

“Ok, I understand.” Shawn sounded irritated. “Stay in your nice kitchen, eat your fancy oven-cooked food.”

Shawn got up to leave.

“Hey, we haven’t worked on your biography!” Cory objected.

“Ok, what do you want to know?”

“Where were you born?”

“Ohio, and I think we lived in Oklahoma for a couple of years when I was little.”

“So when did you move back here?”

“Right before the start of Kindergarten. My dad got a job selling tires in Uncle Mike’s garage.”

“So how did he lose it?”

“Does that really need to go in the biography?”

“Well are you going to give me anything else?”

“What about my half-siblings?”

“Ok, go.”

“Alright, I have a half-brother named Casper who ran away to New York. He makes skateboard videos now. And Stacy’s in a grunge band in Seattle…what?” Shawn noticed that Cory was glaring at him. “Oh…you’re not still mad about the hair straightener, are you?”

“I had to go to school like that for a week!”

“Hey, it got Topanga Lawrence to kiss you.”

Cory punched Shawn in the arm, and the biography assignment was immediately forgotten for a wrestling match.


	9. Disloyalty

The evening of Shawn’s ‘initiation’ Harley and his friends had showed up at the trailer and promptly scared off Eddie.  
“Where are we going?” Shawn asked.  
“You’ll see.” Harley led Shawn into town and to the school parking lot, where there was a motorcycle parked in one of the teacher spaces.  
“Turner’s bike,” Harley indicated, “Clearly he takes very good care of it. Not a scratch on it and look how it shines. - You could eat it.”  
“You mean eat off it.” Shawn was confused – there was no particular reason that he knew of that Harley would care about Turner’s motorcycle.  
“I said what I said. It's a real thing of beauty. Shame what's about to happen to it.”  
Shawn felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. “What’s about to happen to it?”  
“You are, my friend.” Harley handed Shawn a baseball bat. “my advice on the first swing - don't go for a home run, - just make some contact, huh? - May I recommend the headlight. Good noise, broken glass - a real crowd pleaser.”  
Shawn hesitated. Turner had previously been nice to Shawn, by teachers’ standards, but Shawn knew that he would hate him forever if he did what Kleiner wanted. Still, Shawn reminded himself, it was better for Turner to hate him than for him to go back to dealing with Eddie and Wayne. If he had the chance to get rid of Wayne and didn’t, that would mean he liked it.  
Shawn drew back the baseball bat, as if to strike a ball. Joey and Frankie had sensed his hesitation and began making chicken jokes, which only made Shawn more nervous. Just then, Cory walked into the parking lot and stood between Shawn and the motorcycle. Having known Cory for the better part of his 13 years on Earth, Shawn realized that he must have followed him to deliver an intervention he’d gotten from Nick at Nite.  
“Hey guys, what’s up?” Cory said, his feigned aggressiveness failing to conceal the nervousness in his voice.  
Shawn sighed, “Come on Cory, get out of here.”  
Cory wasn’t going to give up that easily. “Shawn, that looks like a bat. - Could that be Turner's bike?”  
Shawn decided to play along “Yeah, you’re right. Now would you please leave.”  
“Nah, this kind of looks like fun.” Cory tried to grab the bat from Shawn’s hands. “Here, let me go first.”  
Shawn yanked the bat back “Cory, let go.”  
“No, I’m gonna try it.”  
“You’re not even supposed to be here.”  
“Yeah?” Cory retorted “Neither are you.”  
“Would you just let me do this?”  
“If you're gonna do this, Shawn, then I'm gonna do it.”  
“This is not your place, ok?”  
“Are you saying I don’t belong here?”  
“That’s what I’m saying.”  
“If you belong here, then I belong here.”  
Harley finally lost his patience with Cory’s performance and pinned him against the wall. Just as Harley was about to punch Cory in the face, Turner opened the gym door. He quickly dispatched Harley and his gang, and then turned to Shawn. The look in his eyes reminded Shawn of Cory’s Dad when Cory disappointed him – it made him want to crawl into a hole and never look Turner in the face again.  
“You wanna tell me what the problem is here?”  
Shawn grasped for a response that would allow him to save face. “Nothing, there’s no problem. Everything’s great.”  
“Who you kiddin'? What's with you, Hunter? Why you wanna hang out with these lowlifes?”  
Shawn summoned a defiant attitude “Maybe I'm a lowlife too, OK?”   
“Is that what you think?”  
“Hey! I'm out here with a bat, aren't I?”  
Turner yanked the bat out of Shawn’s hands, surprising Shawn with his strength. “Yeah! - But you didn't swing it.”  
“Just 'cause Cory came along.”  
“Oh, you think that was an accident? Huh? That you have a friend who thinks so much of you, he's willing to put his own neck on the line? No, I don't think lowlifes have friends like that. Do you?”  
Shawn gave up. “I don’t know, I don’t know anything.”


	10. Leather Jacket

Virna Cordini had to get to work. She had told Chet that she was working as a waitress, and she was, but they would only give her so many hours a week and they made her pool her tips.

The car had been impounded, so she had to take the bus to Cleaváge, and it ended up being late. She ran back to the dressing room to get changed in time to go on stage.

Virna noticed a young man – boy really, who seemed to be paying more attention to her than the other dancers. He wore a leather jacket and reminded her somewhat of Chet, when they first met. She had been dancing for a couple of years after Eddie was born and Chet came in with a leather jacket and a promise to take her somewhere far away. They got as far as Ohio before she realized she was pregnant again. That was when he first hit her, but she knew there was no way she could support two kids on her own, so she had convinced him to ask his brother Mike for a job in his garage. Virna was pretty sure that was the moment he stopped loving her. She had run off a couple of times since then but she’d always come back. She couldn’t pull the boys out of school, and she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving them to fend for themselves without Chet. Now the leather jacket fit Shawn and Chet’s brother had fired him for showing up drunk.

Virna looked at the man in the leather jacket and winked. “What’s your name, cowboy.”

“Harley.”

“You can call me Virna.” She gave him a lap-dance, and he stuffed a fiver in her girdle.

“How much would it cost to get that girdle off?”

“Meet me outside later.”

After the show, Virna went out by the back door, where Harley was waiting for her. She got in his car and they drove off. She spent the drive to the motel room Harley had booked trying to think of an explanation for being late. Chet had said that he’d kill her if he found out she was dancing, or whoring, again, and she had no reason not to believe him.


	11. Overheard

Eric Matthews was lying in bed, listening to the weight loss tape that Jason had dubbed over with figure skating advice.

“This is the end of side one. Please turn the tape over.”

Instead, Eric pressed stop. Without him realizing it, Shawn had snuck in through the window and was sitting at the foot of Cory’s bed. Eric was glad to see Shawn and Cory had gotten over whatever Cory was upset about earlier in the week, although Cory seemed determined to bring it up again.

“I still don’t understand why you were running around with Harley in the first place.”

“He was going to help me out with something.”

“With what?”

“I needed him to beat somebody up for me.”

“Who would you need to beat up?”

“Is it really any of your business?”

“Shawnie, I’m your best friend. And you’ve been acting really weird lately.”

Shawn sighed. “Fine, I needed him to beat up the mailman.”

“The one who keeps writing you love letters?”

“Yeah.”

“Why’d you want to beat him up?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“I promise, I won’t tell anyone else.”

“You swear, not even if you think you need to get an adult to come save me or whatever.” Eric didn’t like the direction this conversation was going in.

“I swear.”

“Ok, fine. He made…he made me gay.”

“How can he make you gay?” Cory asked incredulously.

“He _made_ me.”

“What…?”

“I tried to fight him off but he was too big, and he held me down and…”

“Oh, Shawnie.” Cory’s voice was just a little too loud, which must have spooked Shawn.

“Look, I should go. Don’t. Tell. Anyone.”

In a flash, Shawn had disappeared out the window, and Eric lay awake listening to Cory’s stifled sobs.


	12. The Pouty Guy

As much as he complained about it to Cory, Shawn was secretly glad that Turner had started making him stay after school for tutoring after the bike incident – it kept him at school until after Wayne had gone through the trailer park on his scheduled route. Some days Shawn would linger at the school yard until after dark, ensuring that he would escape whatever set his father off that day.

Since the class had finally finished _The Grapes of Wrath,_ Turner had Shawn reading more Steinbeck, specifically _East of Eden._ It was an egregiously long book, but Shawn kind of sympathized with the character of Cal.

When he finished reading the book, Turner let Shawn borrow the movie. Shawn took the VHS tape over to Cory’s house on Friday evening. Ostensibly, the point was to watch the movie together, but Shawn had really wanted an excuse to stay at Cory’s for the weekend. His dad still hadn’t found another job, which meant that Shawn was spending more and more nights sleeping on the park bench. Cory’s floor was much more comfortable.

When Shawn got to the Matthews house, Cory was eagerly waiting at the front door. “So what are we watching tonight? And keep your voice down, my Mom’s in the next room.”

“ _East of Eden,_ your mom’ll be fine with it.”

“Seriously?”

“Dude, Turner gave it to me. He’s had me reading the book ever since you got me stuck in detention.”

“Since _I_ got you detention?” Cory objected.

“If it weren’t for you showing up and making a fuss I’d have gotten in and out without Turner noticing. He’d never know what had happened to his bike.”

Cory decided that it wasn’t worth arguing the point. They went into the living room and Shawn put the tape in the VCR. The movie started with a young man whose pout reminded Cory of Shawn in a bad mood following woman in an old-fashioned dress and veil through a town. Based on the music, Cory was expecting something to jump out at them, but it just devolved into one of those movies with a lot of dramatic talking.

Cory grew increasingly bored as the movie wore on, and finally snapped when the pouty guy, his character’s name was Cal, started dancing through a field of beans.

“Shawn, this movie isn’t any good.”

Shawn paused the movie. “What do you mean? They cut all the boring parts out from the book.”

 “This doesn’t make any sense. Why is he acting like this?”

“Come on, you’ve never felt like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like, you were just born screwed up, and no matter what you try to do you just end up ruining things?”

“N….no?”

Shawn was mildly annoyed for some reason he didn’t understand. “Well, can you just let me finish the movie then?”

“Sure.”

Cory ended up falling asleep on the couch before the movie finished. Shawn rewound the tape and went to sleep with his head against the base of the couch.


	13. Timshel

Jonathan Turner was at home grading papers when Hunter came by to return the tape.

“Thanks, kid. You know, I half expected you to come in here with some crazy story about how you destroyed the tape.”

“Actually, the Matthews have a cassette of Morgan coming home from the hospital that I was going to tape over with me and Cory acting out the parts.”

“Hmm…”

“But we didn’t end up needing to. I think it’s ‘cause Morgan was asleep.”

“Who?”

“Cory’s little sister.”

“Ah.”

“So what’s my next punishment?”

“Your punishment is over. You’re free to go do whatever it is that you do instead of homework. Just, you know, stay away from my bike.”

“Great, thanks.” Shawn’s enthusiasm seemed oddly forced, and he was a little quicker than usual to turn around and head out the door.

“Hey,” Turner called after him.

Shawn turned around. “Yeah.”

“Timshel.”

Something about the whole exchange seemed off, so Turner mentioned it to Feeny the next day at lunch.

Feeny sighed. “I wish you hadn’t let him go, Jonathan.”

“I think he’s learned his lesson.”

“I wasn’t just concerned about the lesson. I suppose you realize that Mr. Hunter has a rather…difficult home life.”

“Yeah…”

“I had hoped that your tutoring sessions would provide him with a safer place to stay after school.”

“George, do we need to be talking to social services about this kid?”

“I think you should file a report, but don’t expect much in the way of response.”

“What do you mean?”

Feeny lowered his voice so that none of the students would overhear. “I’ve been reporting him for years. They’ve sent a caseworker out a few times, but he keeps getting lost in the bureaucracy, and I’m fairly sure that it just makes the abuse worse.”

“So why not just leave it alone? I don’t want to get the kid in any _more_ trouble.”

“So that when Shawn is older you can look him in the eye and say you did everything you could.”

Jon went back to his classroom and started digging through his desk to find the contact form for social services.


	14. The Bridge

Shawn Hunter was a fucking faggot. He should have found somewhere else to go after school once his detention wore off, but he was trying to actually start doing his homework. Wayne found him at home, alone, reading the first chapter of _Cyrano de Bergerac_. Shawn had tried to put up a fight – but he was only 13, and scrawnier than he’d like to admit. It didn’t help that their food stamps had run out the week before. After a few minutes, Shawn had given up, and the next time he didn’t even try to stop it. He just lay down on the couch and did what Wayne told him to.

Thereafter, it turned into a daily ritual. Shawn did try to avoid being home, but Wayne caught up to him in the park after finishing his route. The cops saw Wayne dragging Shawn off the bench and into the backseat of his car, but it wasn’t worth their trouble to have to write up the report. Wayne parked the car in a deserted lot in Conshohocken, where he was sure that no-one would accidentally walk up on them.

When he’d finished, Wayne pushed Shawn out of the car and drove off. Shawn didn’t have money for the SEPTA fare, so he walked back towards Cedar Heights, mentally berating himself for not having thought of some way to get out of it. His father would have said he should have killed himself before letting it come to that. As he came up to Wissahickon Creek, Shawn thought that maybe that _was_ the way out.

 _“It’s not like I don’t deserve it. I’ve been fucking up things for people my whole life. Mom and Dad would have one less mouth to feed, and they wouldn’t get in fights about me. Maybe Dad’ll stop hitting Mom if I’m not around to stress him out. And Mom won’t have to…”_ He couldn’t make himself finish the thought.

He crossed onto the bridge and looked out at the creek in the autumn twilight. It was too shallow to drown in, but there was a nice set of rocks immediately under the bridge that Shawn was sure would break his neck if he went in at the right angle.

_“It’d be less work for my teachers too, not having to deal with all that social services crap and me fucking up in school. I’d be saving the taxpayers of Pennsylvania a few bucks…not to mention Mr. and Mrs. Matthews.”_

And then Shawn pictured Cory at his funeral, sobbing his eyes out into his mother’s shoulder.

_“Fuck, even when I try to stop hurting people I end up hurting someone else. But he’ll get over it…kids bounce back faster from this kind of thing than adults.”_

He pictured Cory taking graduation pictures with his parents – making himself smile for the cameras but secretly wishing that the kid he’d promised to take to Vermont all those years ago could be in the picture with him.

_“It’s not like I was going to graduate anyway. Besides, he’ll make new friends. He and Theresa Keiner will probably be engaged by then.”_

He pictured Cory and Theresa in an apartment in New York City – Theresa was a teacher and Cory had some random adult career – lawyer or something, with a little girl and a baby boy. The girl would come home from preschool babbling about her new best friend, and ask if Mommy and Daddy had ever had a best friend. Cory would get a faraway look in his eye and mumble some excuse to get away, and Theresa would have to explain that Daddy had had a best friend once but that he went away, and it made Daddy sad to think about it so we don’t talk about it to Daddy. The girl would stay curious about it as she grew up, and finally ask Cory about it, so Cory would take her to a cemetery and show her an anonymous headstone that everyone else had forgotten about and let the weeds grow over, and say: “Here’s my best friend, the friend that abandoned me in the seventh grade.”

“Fuck!” Shawn said aloud, and pulled himself away from the railing. He trudged home, arriving late enough to break curfew but not late enough that his father had gone to bed. As tired as he was, Shawn barely felt it when Chet knocked him to the floor.


	15. Your Mom

Cory and Shawn rounded a corner to find Harley Kleiner and his gang terrorizing the chess club. Harley dropped the nerd he’d been working on when he saw Shawn.

“Hey, Hunter. Tell your mom I had a great time last night.” Frankie and Joey both laughed.

“Fuck you!” Shawn snarled.

Cory was surprised at the vehemence of Shawn’s response. It was the type of stupid remark you heard all the time in a junior/senior high school, especially coming from a guy like Harley.

“That’s what she did!” Harley responded.

Shawn dropped his books and punched Harley in the face, hard enough to knock him to the ground. Frankie and Joey were briefly taken aback. They had never seen their leader taken down like that, and by a lowly seventh grader of all things.

Harley quickly reassumed control of the situation. “Get him boys.”

Frankie and Joey immediately pinned Shawn to a locker, and Harley stood up and went to work on him. Whereas most people who had the misfortune to receive a full Harley Kleiner beat-down meekly accepted their fate, Shawn bombarded Kleiner with a string of curse words, some of which Cory had never heard before. Cory could tell from the savage look on Kleiner’s face that he really wanted to hurt Shawn, so he ran off to get a teacher.

By a stroke of luck, the first adult Cory came to was George Feeny.

“Mr. Feeny, you’ve got to help me. Shawn got into a fight with Harley Kleiner and he’s going to really get hurt if someone doesn’t stop them.”

“I was afraid of something like this happening,” Feeny sighed. He hurried over to break up the fight, and pulled Harley off of Shawn.

“Alright, the four of you all get a month of detention. Mr. Hunter, I’d like to see you in my office.”

“God, why did Cory have to rat me out,” Shawn muttered as he sat in the chair.

“He didn’t ‘rat you out,’” Feeny reassured him, “he told me Harley Kleiner was assaulting you and I assumed you had done something to provoke it. My suspicions were confirmed when I saw Mr. Kleiner’s black eye.”

“Oh.”

“While I have you here, there’s something else Cory didn’t rat you out on. As a mandated reporter I’m required to report any suspected child abuse to the police, and….”

Shawn clenched his fists and stared at his shoes. “So you got that social worker called out to my house?”

“Yes. What did they say about your parents? They haven’t reported back to me.”

Shawn looked up at Mr. Feeny with pure venom in his eyes.

“They said gimme 20 bucks and I was never here. And then my Dad gave me this as punishment for telling.” Shawn pulled up his shirt to reveal an ugly bruise on his stomach.

“Oh.”

“Why are you always on my case?” Shawn’s voice rose to a level that in any other context would have gotten him detention.

“Because I know that you have the potential to be more than your father was. Do you remember the IQ test in sixth grade?”

“Yes.”

“And Cory supposedly got all the answers right by finding an answer key in the trash?”

“Yeah.”

“There was never an answer key in the school building, and I could see him copying your paper before you changed your answers. Why did you change the answers, Shawn?”

Shawn looked down without saying anything.

“Very well, then.”  Feeny walked around the desk and reached out to put a comforting hand on Shawn’s shoulder. Shawn instinctively recoiled from being touched. Feeny noticed tears through the hair that typically obscured Shawn’s face, so he sat back down and offered Shawn a tissue.

Shawn took it without looking up.

“You’re not going to tell my parents, are you?”

“No,” Feeny sighed, “but I will, of course, need their signatures on the detention slip. You can say whatever you like about why you got into the fight.”

Shawn took the detention slip and got up to leave.

“Mr. Hunter,” Feeny called after him.

“Yes, sir?”

“What happened to you wasn’t your fault. You have the choice to let this define you or not. I hope you’ll make the right choice.”


	16. Daddy's Home

Shawn Hunter was in his bedroom attempting to do his math homework when he heard the door slam and his father’s booming voice come down the hallway.

“I’ll kill you, you fucking whore!”

Shawn ran out into the living room as his mother started screaming.  Chet had Virna’s head pinned to the kitchen counter and was yelling about her turning tricks. Apparently he’d found out at the bar.

Shawn realized that his father was, in that moment, completely capable of murder, so he tried to distract him.

“Dad!”

Chet looked up, giving Virna the chance to break free of his grasp and try to get to the door. Chet grabbed a kitchen knife from the drawer and cornered Virna in the living room. As he raised the knife, Shawn jumped between them. Chet brought the knife down as Shawn raised his arm to block it, leaving a gash across his forearm. Shawn fell backwards as Virna ran away.

When Chet saw what he’d done, his countenance immediately shifted from rage to a mixture of pity and regret.

“Oh, Slim Jim. I didn’t mean to hurt you. Here, let daddy help you.”

Chet helped Shawn up and led him into the bathroom to bandage his arm, apologizing profusely the whole time. He gave Shawn a shot of whisky to dull the pain. Shawn went to bed and fell into a fitful sleep to the sound of his father’s sobs coming from the next room.


	17. Phone Call

Amy Matthews was just starting to make breakfast when the phone rang.

“Hello.”

A woman’s voice came on the other line, barely audible over the background noise. “Is this Mrs. Mathers?”

“This is Mrs. Matthews.”

“But your boy’s Shawn’s friend?”

“My son has a friend named Shawn, yes. Is this Mrs. Hunter?”

“Not anymore. I had to leave Chet. Mrs. Matthews, I need you to watch out for my boy, Please!”

Amy thought that the background noise might be highway traffic. “I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what’s going on. Why couldn’t you take Shawn with you?”

“I can’t go back, Mrs. Matthews. He’ll kill me!” The line went dead.

Amy called upstairs for Alan, who came down in his pajamas.

“Alan, I just got a strange phone call from Shawn’s mother. Do you have time to go check on him before work?”

Alan sighed. “I can make time. Can you call George while I get dressed?” Alan turned and started up the stairs to find an extremely worried-looking Cory.

“What’s wrong with Shawn, Dad?”

“I’m sure he’s fine, I’m just going to go check on him. Eric will take you to school. Just try not to worry too much, ok?”

“Ok.”

Alan dressed hurriedly and drove George out to the trailer park. “Have you heard anything about his parents lately?”

George sighed. “Apparently the mother’s been stripping again, and possibly doing more than that. I’ve had to give him detention three times for fighting over it.”

“That’s strange, Chet doesn’t seem like the type of man…”

“I don’t think he knows about it. All of the signatures on the detention slips were forged. That stays between you and me – I decided it might be better for Shawn if I didn’t call home.”

“You’re probably right.”

They pulled up at the trailer park. Eddie, the half-brother Alan and Shawn had always made sure to keep away from Cory, was smoking in front of the Hunter’s trailer.

“Is Shawn here?” Alan asked.

“He’s inside,” Eddie said, then looked at George. “I don’t think he’s coming to school today – he had a little accident last night.”

“Can we see him?”

“Hey, Runt!” Eddie called into the trailer, “Your teacher’s here.”

Shawn stumbled into the light. Alan noticed that his right arm was in a crude homemade sling.

“Shawn, what happened to your arm?”

“Nothing, just a little accident.”

Alan’s voice grew cold. “Eddie, where is your father?”

Eddie spat onto the ground directly in front of Alan’s feet. “He’s not my fucking father.”

“He went to go look for Mom,” Shawn admitted, “they had a, uh, argument last night and she left.”

“Yeah she called the house,” Alan said, “wanted us to check on you. I guess she heard about your ‘accident.’ We’re going to take you to the hospital to get that arm looked at. Eddie, I want you to come with us to talk to the police.”

Eddie flicked his cigarette butt onto the ground. “I ain’t talking to no fucking cops.”

Alan realized that there was no way he could force Eddie to come with him.

“Alright, Shawn, get in the car.”

Shawn meekly complied and Alan drove him to the hospital. While a nurse applied disinfectant to Shawn’s arm, Alan and George dealt with the social worker.

“You say you received a phone call from the boy’s mother?”

“My wife did, yes.”

“And how do you know the family?”

 “My son’s his best friend.”

“I’ve made about four or five reports on the boy.” George interrupted.

“What did you say the name was?”

“Shawn Hunter.”

“Ok,” the social worker began typing. “S – e –“

“It’s S-H-A-W-N.”

“Oh, alright. We have several reports for a Shawn Hunter, but there isn’t a birth certificate for a Shawn Hunter. What were the parents’ names?”

“Chet and…”

“Virna,” George confirmed. “V-I-R-N-A.”

“Let’s see, I have a birth certificate for a Shawn Cordini, and the father’s name is listed as Chester Hunter. Hm, no marriage certificate.”

Alan was beginning to get impatient. “What’s the birth date?” He remembered that Shawn’s birthday was in December from having come home to find that Cory had thrown him a surprise party in the Matthews’ living room – without getting permission.

“Let’s see, 11/12/79.”

“It’s the same kid.”

“So you say the father took a knife to him?”

“Yes. And this isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

“Where is the mother?”

“I don’t know,” Alan explained, “she called our house from a pay phone this morning. I think he was going for her and Shawn tried to stop him.”

“Any other family in the area? We need somebody to send him home with or he’ll have to go to a group home.”

“uhh…” Shawn had a very large extended family back at the trailer park, but none of them would make good foster parents.

“He has an uncle, Michael Hunter,” Feeny responded.

“Alright, let me just do a quick background check…huh, looks like they tried him back in ’83 and he said he wasn’t interested.”

“I think his grandmother’s still living, as I recall her name was Gertrude.”

The social worker typed something into her computer. “Gertrude Hunter is currently under indictment for 23 counts of mail fraud. Let’s try other relatives…hmm, forged checks, welfare fraud, welfare fraud, cruelty to animals, welfare fraud, no fixed address, history of self-mutilation, transsexual, money laundering, murder, _and_ a RICO indictment – looks like Uncle Nicky’s connected, more welfare fraud, and Uncle Edward has a warrant out for threatening a police officer. I don’t see anyone here that would be a qualified foster parent. Unless you know someone else who’d be willing to take him in, we’re going to have to put him in a group home.”

“I’ll take him.” Alan blurted out.

“Alright, what was your name again?”

“Alan Matthews.”

She looked him up in the computer. “Alright, looks like your background’s clear. I’ll tell the doctors you’re signing him out.”


	18. Throwing Stones

Shawn sat in the church pew with Morgan while the rest of the Matthews took communion. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten roped into going to Mass with Cory, but it was the first time since getting mixed up with Wayne and finding out he was a bastard, both of which Shawn was pretty sure earned you a one-way ticket to hell.

The Matthews got back to their pew and Shawn forced himself to stay awake through the homily. It was about some woman named Mary Magdalene and throwing rocks, but Shawn didn’t know what he was supposed to take away from it. The main thing he took away was that Cheryl Jenkins, who had several times loudly informed Cory that Shawn was a bad influence he shouldn’t be hanging out with, had spotted him in the pew and was attempting to drill holes in the back of his head with her eyeballs.

Shawn studiously avoided her gaze as he walked out of the church and made his way as quickly as decorum would allow to the car. Shawn’s grades had started slipping again, so his afternoon consisted of reviewing his math homework with Mr. Matthews. It was hopeless – the teacher had said they should remember ratios from sixth grade, but Shawn had never heard of them, and he could tell Mr. Matthews’ patience was wearing thin. Shawn was terrified that this would lead to a blow-up, and him getting tossed out of the house, so he announced that he had another chapter of _Huckleberry Finn_ to read.

Shawn was relieved that Mrs. Matthews called them for dinner. He tried his best to eat politely, but Morgan complained loudly about him getting a larger serving of meatloaf than her. After dinner, he finally got to relax a little, playing video games with Eric and Cory until it was time for bed.

The Matthews had dragged a pull-out sofa into the boys’ room to serve as a bedroom for Shawn. To most people, it would have been uncomfortable, but it was actually better than Shawn’s bed at home. Nevertheless, he struggled to get to sleep, and hadn’t been out for long when the nightmare started. It began with Wayne on top of him. Shawn could smell Wayne’s BO, and the stench of his breath. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t make a sound, and when he looked down he was wearing girl’s clothing.

Shawn heard a door open, and looked up to see his father looming over him. Wayne had disappeared, but somehow Shawn knew that his father had seen them, and that was why he was so angry. Chet pulled out the kitchen knife and began chasing him. Shawn turned to run, which was when he rolled off the bed and landed with a thud on the bedroom floor.

It took Shawn a couple of seconds to remember where he was, and then he realized that he’d woken Cory and Eric up for the fifth time in the three weeks he’d been staying with the Matthews. Shawn whispered an apology and went over to the window to get some fresh air; the nightmare had left him drenched with sweat. He noticed a stray dog on the corner and observed it howling until Cory crept up next to him.

“Sorry, was I keeping you up?”

“Not like that.” Cory responded.

“What’s with that dog?”

“Shawn?”

“It’s a very cool dog….no leash, no collar, just having a great time barking at the moon.”

“No, wait. I know that dog. It’s a stray. It’s probably barking ‘cause it doesn’t have a home.”

“I know the feeling. Look, I’ll be back in the morning.”

Before Cory could protest, Shawn leapt out the window and landed on the grass. True to his word, he came back just before dawn. Mr. and Mrs. Matthews had no idea he’d ever left. Mrs. Matthews had apparently invested a great deal of time at some point in the past three weeks in patching the holes in Shawn’s favorite pair of jeans, and Shawn awkwardly feigned enthusiasm until the phone rang.

Mrs. Matthews answered it, and her face fell immediately. After a few seconds she put her hand over the receiver and looked up.

“Shawn, it’s your dad. He’s coming back, and he wants you to move back in with him.”


	19. Going Home

Jonathan Turner eyed Shawn Hunter from across the cafeteria. Trying to keep him away from his father had been hopeless. Without a formal removal order, Chet could have the Matthews arrested for kidnapping, and Child Protective Services had lost the initial reports Jon and Alan Matthews filed. Shawn himself was no help, of course. He had been heartbreakingly enthusiastic to be reunited with his Dad at first, like a puppy when its owner came home. It didn’t take long for him to start sleeping in class again and showing up with funny bruises.

Now Shawn hadn’t turned in any homework in a week, and hadn’t changed his shirt in three days. Jon had noticed bags under his eyes in English class, and he’d seemed lethargic. Now he was enthusiastically bolting down the cafeteria lunch, and Jon wondered if he’d eaten anything since the previous day.

George Feeny sat down across from Jon and followed his gaze to the table where Hunter sat with Cory Matthews.

“How is he?”

“I don’t think he’s been sleeping well,” Jon responded.

“I was afraid of that.”

“You think he’s going out and getting into trouble?”

“It’s more likely that he’s not sleeping because of the problems at home. Of course, my concern can always lead to yours.”

“You think I should file another report.”

“If you have anything new to put in it.”

Jon thought for a moment. “No…I’ll just keep an eye on him.”

Jon tried to put all thoughts of Shawn out of his mind. He had a date with Kat Tompkins. Unfortunately for him, it became clear that Kat wanted to discuss the status of their relationship as soon as they got back to the apartment.

“Jonathan, we've been together now for four months. And I need to know, do you love me?”

Jon put his wine glass down. “Uh If by that, do you mean, am I always happy to see you? Do I enjoy being with you? Do we always have fun together? Then, yes, love.”

“Jonathan.”

“Yeah?” Jon looked at his wine glass, wishing he had something a little stronger.

“Listen to me. You are a good, gentle man. And I could spend the rest of my life with you and have children with you and know they will always be taken care of. When you hold me, I feel safe. Now, if you can't say the same to me with the same feeling, then don't let me give any more of my heart to you.”

“Uh…” before Jon could formulate a response, he was saved by a knock at the door. He opened it to find Shawn Hunter standing in the hallway, soaking wet.

“Hi, Mr. Turner, sorry for bugging you.” Shawn’s voice quavered, and he was shivering. Jon couldn’t tell if it was the cold or fear. “Am I interrupting anything.”

“Oh, no.”

Shawn noticed Kat “Oh, look, it’s Miss Tompkins. Gee, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you…”

“No problem, come on in.”

“But you’ve got company.”

The point became moot, as Kat got up to leave.

As Shawn stepped into the light, Jon saw that he had a black eye and scratches on his face. There was a trickle of blood running down the back of his pant leg and onto his shoe.

“Shawn, what happened to you?”

“It’s nothing, I just…had a question…about the homework.”

“Look, you want something to eat?”

“Uh…sure.”

Jon went back to the kitchen to make Shawn a plate of the spaghetti. “So how’s your dad?”

“Oh, he’s out, uh looking for my mom.”

“He’s not the one who did that to you?”

“No, that’s, uh…kind of a long story.”

“You know, if you ever need someone to talk to, feel free to drop by. You know, we could eat, we could talk or not talk.”

Jon finished making the plate and walked out into the living room, to find Shawn passed out on the couch. Figuring it would be pointless to try to wake him, Jon put a blanket over him and turned out the light.


End file.
